


One More Bitter Pill

by Miss M (missm)



Category: Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Bargaining, Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M, Oral Sex, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 21:01:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10316891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missm/pseuds/Miss%20M
Summary: "Monsieur le colonel," he said, his stomach in knots, "I hope we may come to an understanding."





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Esteliel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esteliel/gifts).



> Written at the last minute for the Porn Battle Amnesty prompts "scandal" and "first time". 
> 
> I tagged this as "remix" because it's honestly more or less inspired by Esteliel's [Valjean/Gisquet drabble](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1471726/chapters/7678796) \-- it's an unusual scenario for me to write, but it's also an unusual pairing, so...

He'd had no warning that he would be summoned into the Colonel's office, and now, standing at attention in front of Gisquet's desk, Jean Valjean was uncomfortably aware of the fact that he had no idea what to expect.

Had they discovered the truth about his past? That he was no more entitled to be part of the National Guard than he had been entitled to be mayor? Was there already a contingent of policemen on their way to Gisquet's office, ready to drag him away in chains?

He glanced towards the window. The building was three storeys high, and there would be guards outside -- he could not chance it.

"So, Monsieur Fauchelevent," Gisquet said, rather languidly. "Age fifty, is that so?"

This was his chance to confess voluntarily, and yet, it was hard to see what he stood to lose in clinging to his lies. "Yes, Monsieur," he said, and thought of Cosette.

"A widower?"

"Yes, Monsieur."

Gisquet smiled, which was even more unsettling. He did not seem to be in a hurry to call for the guards, and yet again Valjean found himself wondering what to expect. Was this all a drawn-out game of cat and mouse? Was Gisquet waiting for him to offer the truth?

No sooner had he thought this than Gisquet rose to his feet. The Colonel was not wearing uniform, but a fine dark blue coat, which he now unbuttoned. As he shrugged it off to reveal the considerable bulge in his trousers, Valjean felt himself go faint with shock.

Could _that_ really be the Colonel's reason for summoning him?

He remained frozen to the spot, his mind racing, as Gisquet circled the desk and came to stand beside him. This close, he could smell the Colonel's cologne and the hint of tobacco on his breath.

"I think," Gisquet muttered, placing a hand on his shoulder, "that you are fearing a scandal, Monsieur. Is that true?"

Valjean swallowed. "Monsieur le colonel," he said, his stomach in knots, "I hope we may come to an understanding."

Gisquet's mouth curled in a smile. Without another word, Valjean sank to his knees.

His hands trembled as he raised them to unbutton the Colonel's trousers, but he did not allow himself to flinch. He knew what this was. He had witnessed it back in Toulon - turned his back on it, ignored it as best he could, but in the end, there was no escape. It had found him, here in this fine office in a respected building in Paris.

Gisquet's member was fully hard, fluid leaking from the tip. Valjean studied it for a moment, not sure what to do or whether it would be prudent to ask. Gisquet's hand came to curl around his neck, and with a sinking feeling he leaned in and put his mouth to the swollen head.

A jerk, a muttered curse, and the thing was inside his mouth; he willed himself not to shudder, raising his hands tentatively to grip Gisquet's hips for purchase as he moved his head back and forth with slow motions. Gisquet allowed it, the hand around Valjean's neck sliding into his air; Valjean closed his eyes. _For Cosette_ , he thought and sucked harder, listening for changes in Gisquet's gasps and moans.

When at last the Colonel spilled himself, it was without warning, flooding Valjean's mouth and for a moment he thought he would choke on it; he swallowed frantically until it was all down and only the aftertaste lingered, as of a bitter pill.

Gisquet was breathing harshly as he took out a handkerchief, wiped himself and tucked himself in. His face was flushed, and once again Valjean felt incredulous at what had just taken place -- the Colonel was younger than him, a wealthy man. Could he not have his fill of willing lovers?

But perhaps that was the allure of it, he thought, wiping his mouth. Perhaps that was the precise point - that it was a mere bargain with a desperate man.

"Monsieur," he said, looking up. "May I be excused?"

"Excused?" Gisquet asked, sounding baffled. "Do you wish to leave? Do you not wish me to --?"

He waved his hand, looking both uncomprehending and expectant, and again, Valjean felt himself frozen to the spot in shock as it dawned on him: they had not, after all, been making the bargain he had assumed. And he still did not know what to expect.


End file.
